Open Ended
by Mrs. Laurel Lupin
Summary: Can you see Lydia with five children? Neither can she and she wants help, because she ends up with them anyway. BL


I haven't seen my mother in twenty-five years. I haven't seen my father in eight years. I

haven't seen my stepmother in seven years. I haven't seen my best friend in nine years.

What's the reason for all these horrible, lengthy absences? Me. I wish I had someone

else to blame. Really, I do. But I don't. I don't have anyone but myself to blame for

burning all the bridges that led to my happiness. _Well_…I did have a _little_ help, but…I

could have defied them. I could have ignored them, contacted him anyway. But I didn't.

Because, in the long run, I'd see him later, right? And why risk two people you care so

deeply about for one you'll eventually meet again anyway? Once my body's started to

rot six feet under the grounds I once walked, I'll be with my best friend again. I'd

explain and we'd talk for hours, catching up and laughing and going on adventures like

we used to. Isn't it morbid to know that I look so forward to death?

Want to know something? The years are starting to add up and every day I

want more and more to call him to me. But I can't. Why? I'm ashamed of what I've

become.

_So_ ashamed.

I have three kids: A seven year old, a four year old, and a fourteen month old. So why

am I ashamed? What if I told you each one had a different father? I just couldn't take

the questions. I was a fool. Each man had offered love, protection, and security. Each

man had lied. I'm a single mother who makes less than enough to support herself, let

alone three children. I can't leave them alone, so I can't get another job. Right now, all I

do is take pictures, and send them in and hope beyond hope that I make some money off

of them. I've got talent; I know that. That's how I'm able to afford this run-down one-

person apartment. But it's just…_not enough_.

My kids are wild. They hate each other, they hate me…and I probably did that, too.

They scream and shout and kick and slap…and it's killing me. Knowing that I've

somehow corrupted them to such an extent. I want help, but I wouldn't trust a soul

around this dump. My parents? I was just getting ready to go to them. I'd finally

worked up enough courage, swallowed enough pride. I'd told them I was doing well the

last time I'd seen them that I'd been making a good living on photography. It was going

to be so hard to tell them I'd lied. Ironically, I'd just walking over to the phone to call

them when it rang. I picked it up and timidly said hello. My parents were killed in a car

accident. They'd left me two-year-old twins.

I didn't even know they had kids-_could_ have kids! Let alone kids that were twenty-

four years younger than me! And they entrusted them to me. Me, with my booming

career. Me, with my small fortune! The day those sullen kids arrived I swore I would

_never _again lie. The worst part was that my oldest soon conformed them. They became

wild and hateful like my own. It was like…I never cease to fail. There were tantrums

and fights. I couldn't eat if I wanted them to be even slightly healthy, so, of course, I

didn't.

…Then one day, I finally broke…

"DON'T THROW THAT!" Lydia yelled as her oldest son and one of the twins played

catch with her camera. Her youngest fell off a chair with a loud thump and began wailing

after a moment of wide-eyed shock. Lydia gasped and ran over to him. She picked him

up and looked him over for injury. She growled in frustration when she realized he was

crying just to be crying.

"I AM _TRYING _TO MAKE A MEAL!" she yelled at them all and rushed over to

separate a twin and her four year old who were hitting and yelling at each other.

"_Stop that!_" she hissed angrily and grabbed both of them roughly by their collars.

"Your not the boss of me!" the four year old stated glaring before tackling the twin

again. Once again she grabbed him.

"Yes I am! Now stop acting so-" she was cut off as he hit her in the face. She gaped

for a second before yelling at him.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL, LITTLE-" she gasped as she heard something shatter and

knew instantly that she should have gotten her camera back first. She stood and slowly

turned. Her camera lay in pieces on the floor. Glass from the lens was scattered

everywhere, but before she got mad motherly instinct kicked in.

"Get away from the glass!" she told her kids as she went to grab a broom to sweep up

the mess. She came back to see her oldest crying on the floor nursing a bleeding hand.

"What did I tell you? I said GET AWAY FROM THE GLASS!" she yelled at him.

She walked forward to clean up the shimmering pieces, but tripped as two of the children

Chased each other around her. She landed on the glass and cut both hands painfully.

She swore loudly and started to cry. The little monsters around her continued to fight and

run and cry, so she allowed herself to cry louder until her small frame shuddered with

violent sobs. Then she whispered the first word that entered her mind.

"_Beetlejuice_…" the name sounded foreign to her and almost forbidden, but realizing

that nothing had caught fire, nothing had been struck by lightning, Lydia went on.

"…Beetlejuice…" she said again, only louder. She covered her mouth with her hand

and looked around frantically for any sign of destruction that the forbidden word had

caused. Nothing happened. _Nothing_. She shook her head furiously.

_You can't do this! _

But I can.

_You shouldn't!_

But I will…

With one more look around the room at the bickering, screaming children, she said it.

"BEETLEJUICE!" she sobbed. Because all she wanted was the comfort of her best

friend. She covered her eyes with her hand, and breathed deeply, accidentally smearing

blood on her face. She tried to wipe it away with the back of her hand, but didn't have

time. For in a swirl of wind and lightning, her confused looking best friend stood

before her.

"Lydia?" he questioned, knowing immediately who she was. She looked the same,

only more mature. Her ebony hair was long and hung messily down her back, her eyes

were tired and dark. Even with the blood on it, he knew that face anywhere. She crawled

to her feet and stared unnervingly at him. Then she whimpered softly.

"I, um…I need some help."


End file.
